


Something As Good as Gold and Better

by sailorwednesday



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Steve Rogers, Christmas Fluff, Darcy Lewis Is a Good Bro, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Jewish Bucky Barnes, M/M, Nerd Bucky Barnes, Nerd Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, References to A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens, References to Dickens, all fluff, does this count as a christmas special, everyone is a nerd okay and i love them, great expectations references, nerd darcy lewis, references to the muppets christmas carol, this is my love letter to this ship and also the historical costuming community
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:13:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27809641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorwednesday/pseuds/sailorwednesday
Summary: Bucky is not at all pleased when Darcy convinces him to go sing carols at the annual Dickens Fair. Little does he know, all it takes are some faux cobblestones and a nineteenth century costume to stumble into meeting the perfect guy.--enjoy some self-indulgent, holiday-themed fluff
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	1. Morning

“I can’t believe I actually let you talk me into this,” Bucky grumbled. It was _way too fucking early_ , and while she had been nice enough to bring him a coffee when she banged down his apartment door in a set of Victorian underwears with a suitcase of clothes, the caffeine had not really sunk in yet. “And, hold still!” 

Darcy sighed exaggeratedly, but realizing he was holding a curling iron rather close to her face, stopped wriggling so much.

“Come on, Buck, you’ll have fun. I promise. And, you’re getting paid to be there. I’m really doing you a favor.”

_Uh, pretty sure you still owe me one, kid_. When her caroling troupe’s baritone had something come up at the last minute, Darcy called him totally freaking out and applied the guilt treatment until he promised he would fill in. That was 2 days ago, long enough for her to churn out an acceptable costume for him to wear, and long enough for him to develop some serious doubts about the whole thing and to learn way more Christmas songs than he had ever wanted to. But, at least it would be a pretty easy way to make a few hundred bucks. Way better than the usual deal of _losing_ money when Darcy dragged him to one of her costume society’s events or a ren faire. Dressing up is, like, _expensive_.

He hmphed noncommittally and pinned her lace cap in place, squinting at the reference photo she had pulled up on her phone. Apparently, it should settle low over the bun he had gathered at the back of her head, but not get in the way of the front ringlet bits. _Weirdo Victorians with their weirdo hair._

“Okay, you’re done.”

She looked in the mirror appraisingly, decided she was pleased, and turned to him with a devious glint in her eyes.

“Your turn!”

\--

By the time they were parked in the massive satellite lot, had taken the shuttle in, squeezed through the crowds of other Dickens Fair employees and vendors, and met up with Darcy’s caroling troupe, he had made peace with looking less like Dante Gabriel Rossetti and more like Bob Cratchit in his orange-red vest, slicked-back hair, and top hat. He realized he also was in dire need of more coffee. _Especially if I really have to wear this hat all day_.

Darcy was totally in her element with her costumer friends, all of them chatting excitedly, their crinoline skirts bumping into each other as they swayed in place. He waved to the ones he recognized from the ren faire and various parties Darcy had hosted over the years, then made a beeline for the refreshments booth.

\--

He wasn’t the only one with that idea, the line was already curved around the edge of the stall and into the fake cobblestoned street when he walked up. It was a funny picture, everyone decked out in their nineteenth century-esque holiday plaids and lace, all staring at their phones while they waited. He looked around, doing almost a 360, trying to figure out how the Fair organizers had built the set.

He gave a little nod at the guy behind him in line when they made eye contact and _wow, he’s super cute_. Not just cute, handsome, but in a waifish kind of way. Pale, with light hair and huge blue eyes, thin and birdlike, a few inches shorter than Bucky, who wasn’t all that tall himself. He looked graceful, like a dancer or some kind of Middle Earth elf. And _his clothes_ , they were like they’d been made for him; _probably were_. Black wool trousers with a high waist; Bucky surprised himself by recognizing they were an 1850s cut, technically a little early for the Dickens Fair’s desired time period. A white shirt with a stiff collar, tucked into a richly navy cravat and matching shot-silk waistcoat that shone green when he moved. _Okay, Buck, you gotta cut it out. You can’t just STARE at the guy, even if he totally--_

“Hi, um, I like your waistcoat.” The guy pronounced it like ‘westkit.’ _Wait, what, OH_. “Did you make it yourself?”

“Oh, um, thanks, but no, Darcy—my, ah, my friend Darcy made it. Costuming is really more her thing.” _Dammit, Buck, keep it on track._ “It’s such a cool hobby though, I want to get into it more, um, did you make yours? It’s really nice. The colors.” _Okay, good, stop now._

The guy preened a little at that.

“Yeah, the Fair is like, a high holiday for me. I try to make a different look for each year. I was kind of going for a Pip in _Great Expectations_ thing this year? You know, when he’s trying to be a London gentleman, obviously.”

“Oh, right on. Such a good book.” Bucky wasn’t even trying to pretend not to stare at this point.

“So, uh, are you working a booth or something? To be here so early.”

“Something, yeah, I’m with a caroling troupe.” The line was moving, so Bucky sidled forward, torn between not wanting to be rude to this gorgeous guy, but also absolutely not wanting to delay his acquisition of coffee.

“Oh wow, you’re a musician?” The guy’s eyes went kind of wide, like he thought it was a cute idea. For Bucky to be a musician.

“Heh, not really, I’m doing a grad program at UCB, in my teaching semester now. Just kind of a fluke that I’m here, actually, someone else cancelled last minute. I, like, didn’t even know most of the songs.” The guy’s eyebrows knitted together in a way that was _seriously fucking adorable_.

“Aren’t they just Christmas songs?”

“Well, yeah. But. Seeing as how I’m Jewish, kinda had some catching up to do.” Bucky smirked, and the guy was totally blushing, like _all over his face_ _and that is fucking adorable too, seriously, what is up with this guy._

“I’m so sorry, um, I didn’t mean it, like…”

“Dude, don’t worry about it. All good.” Suddenly, it was his turn to order. He thought about offering to get the guy’s coffee, too, but _wait is that creepy? I don’t know, um, he’s probably just being friendly, and oh, shit, I have to say something now, ah, fuck_.

The moment had passed. He paid the coffee lady and happily accepted the huge paper cup she pressed into his hands, taking a deep sip. The guy was ordering at the other register now. Bucky rocked back onto his heels for a second, trying to figure out if it was weird to wait for him, to ask for his number or something. He about jumped out of his skin when Darcy chose that moment to clamp onto his arm with a little shriek.

“There you are! The girls want to practice with you before any visitors get here and we have to start, like, actually doing shit. And I want to get photos.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, of course.” He let her lead him away, stealing a last glance over his shoulder at the guy, who was apparently still deep in conversation with the coffee stall ladies, _because he’s just a damn sweetheart who talks to everyone like that or something. Sigh._


	2. Afternoon

The first two caroling performances went off without a hitch, and then they had free time to wander among all the artist stalls and watch some of the other displays. Bucky couldn’t help looking for the guy from the coffee line—he was here early, too, he had to be some kind of other performer or something.

So far, no dice.

“Hey, Buck, you good? You’ve been like, in your own little world all day.” Darcy gently elbowed him in the ribs while they pawed through a collection of reproduction postcards in one of the shopping booths.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I met this guy this morning, I’ve kinda been looking for him?”

“Ohmygod, cute!” She basically squealed, he shook his head with a smile.

“See, this is why I never tell you when I’m into somebody.”

“No, but, ohmygod, can you imagine how romantic it would be if you like actually really met someone here and then you owed me your entire happiness and life, because I’m like your fucking fairy godmother or whatever…”

“Okay, fucking Abel Magwitch. You would literally never let me live it down, oh my god. I can’t. Nope.”

“Aaand, if you met him here, he’s totally my kind of nerd, right? Like, we’d totally team up on you and bring you to the cosplay dark side? Iconic.” She batted at his arm playfully and he pretended to glare.

“Shut up.”

\--

The caroling group did lunch in phases, one of them breaking off at a time. After Darcy got back from her break, she was trying to communicate with him through complicated eyebrow movements or something. It was very confusing and he kept trying to tell her to _just tell me later_.

Somehow, Bucky got stuck going for lunch last. It was fine, actually kind of nice because his lunch time bled into their scheduled break between performances.

“Okay, Darce, what the hell were you trying to tell me?”

“What?” She blinked at him for a second, then seemed to have a lightbulb moment and started rummaging through her pockets. “It has to be in here somewhere…. Okay! Yes!” She took out a little envelope and brandished it at him.

“Um… What am I seeing here?”

She shook her head, opening it and taking out a little piece of black cardstock paper that was meticulously cut into a Victorian silhouette. 

“Look. It’s you.” She held it up, exaggeratedly looking between his face and the little cut out person.

“What even…” But he could see it. He could, like, _totally see it._ The silhouette was wearing a top hat, like the one currently tucked under his arm, but there was his forehead and permanently, slightly furrowed brow. His nose, his jawline, his chin with a hint of a cleft, all tucked neatly into a stock tie, like the one he was wearing today. “Do I… just have one of those faces? What is this? Did you get this for me?”

“Yeah, I was, like, walking to the bathroom you know, on my lunch, and I went through that branch of the artist alley we didn’t get to this morning. This guy was doing silhouettes for people and it was, like, so cool, so I stopped to watch for a second and then I noticed he had some examples hung up and then I saw this one and it was you! So weird, right?”

“Yeah… Super weird…” He thought for a second, processing. He could see Darcy’s eyes going progressively wider, and wider.

He said: “Do you think—” at the same moment she said “Holy fuck—” and then it was

“No way, it can’t be--”

“Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod—”

“Can you—”

“I can’t fucking believe—”

“It has to be—”

“I’m your fucking fairy godmother, bitch!”

She grabbed his arm and they hustled through the fake cobblestoned streets, laughing and shouting apologies over their shoulders to the people they bumped into. She had her skirts gathered up in one hand, flashing her boots and pantaloons, and he was holding onto his hat maybe, technically, a little too tightly.

“Did we just have a Saoirse Ronan in _Little Women_ moment?” He panted after they skidded to a stop at the mouth of the artist alley.

“Yes. And it was beautiful. Okay, he was over there, on the left side.”

Bucky squared his shoulders, Darcy took the hat from his hands and placed it gently back on his head, smoothing his hair back with it. She looked him up and down, then nodded.

“Are you coming with me?”

“Nah, you got this. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

\--

And, there he was, the guy. From this morning. His booth was, like, _really fucking cute_ , with faux greenery boughs and garlands of dried oranges hanging everywhere. He had a chair set up, currently occupied by a kid, whose grandparents were cooing over the guy as he worked. It was mesmerizing, his hands moved incredibly fast, a pair of miniature silver scissors making a satisfying twinkling sound as tiny clips of paper fell to the floor like snow. Soon enough he was done, had framed the silhouette and packaged it up for the family.

Bucky smiled at them as they passed, and edged closer. The guy was distracted, tidying up with a little dustpan. Bucky tried to do a polite little cough. He didn’t want to startle anybody.

“I’ll be right with—oh, um, hi! Hi there.” The guy had straightened up and was blushing, the blush that somehow turned his entire face, and the little of his neck that Bucky could see, pink.

“Hi, uh,” He swept his hat off, wanting something to fidget with, realized the meaning of the gesture, and blushed himself. “That was really impressive. With the silhouette. I didn’t, I didn’t realize you were an artist.”

“Yeah, I usually do graphic design stuff, I work for a pretty big firm. But, this, I love this stuff. I’m Steve. Steve Rogers. I didn’t get your name earlier?” He holds out a hand, but looks hesitant, like maybe he read the situation wrong.

Bucky closed the space between them, taking his hand to shake it, and if he let the touch linger for a second too long, _well, who could REALLY blame me, come on._

“I’m James Barnes, but everyone calls me Bucky. I’m… really glad to meet you.” The guy— _Steve. Steve._ Smiled up at him and, _Damn. That’s a smile._

“Yeah, yeah me too. I went to see the carols in the square, like, maybe an hour ago? When I took a break? But you weren’t there, I thought maybe I had made it all up.” He blushed again, and laughed at himself a little.

“Wait, really? I was on my own break then.” Bucky laughed too. “That’s some real _Gift of the Magi_ shit, right there. My friend saw your booth earlier and told me about it.” He waved Darcy over and was rewarded by another magical Steve Rogers blush.

“Oh my god, I totally… I totally… I didn’t think you’d ever see the cut out I did of you, it just popped in my head and… Are you mad? You can be mad, it’s okay.”

“No, no, Steve. Hey, I’m not mad. I… am actually kind of flattered. And I never would have found your booth if Darce hadn’t happened to see it. It was like, providential or something.” Steve looked relieved at that, the blush fading and his smile broadening.

“Okay. Well. Um.”

“Hi again!” _Saved by the Darcy_. “I’m Darcy! Your shoes are like, amazing. Are they American Duchess?”

And they were chattering a mile a minute and, _Shit, she was totally right, they’re exactly the same kind of crazy. It’s amazing._

Eventually, they remember Bucky exists, and he has the bright idea to invite Steve to join them for a drink after the Fair is over. They exchange numbers before he and Darcy have to rush off to the last performance.

\--

They’re not the only Fair-goers who end up in the nearest bar that evening, and it just keeps the festive buzz going to be out with other people in costumes.

Steve tells him and Darcy about how he got into Dickens, and art, and Bucky talks about his PhD research on Russian literature. Eventually, Darcy goes to get them drink refills.

Steve takes a deep breath and looks earnestly at Bucky, like he’s trying to make up his mind about something.

“This has been…really fun. Would, um, would you want to do it again? You and me?”

_Are you fucking kidding me?_

“Yes, absolutely, I would love that. Please.”

\--

When she comes back to their table, Bucky and Steve are sitting a lot closer together; Darcy pretends not to notice _because she is the best ever best friend,, and she’s right, I totally owe her one for forever, dammit_. She snaps a selfie of the three of them: Steve throws a peace sign, Bucky plants a bold kiss on his cheek, and she sticks her tongue out.

“Wait, are you posting that? Darcy! Come on!”

“Too late! It’s super cute.”

Bucky shakes his head, but he’s laughing when the Instagram notification goes off.

A.DARCY.UNIVERSALLY.ACKNOWLEDGED just posted a new photo: GOD BLESS US, EVERY1<333


	3. 1 Year Later

It was early, _way too fucking early_ when the alarm rang on his phone. Bucky groaned and burrowed deeper into the covers. Steve sat up beside him, brushing his hair gently; Bucky leaned into the touch and cracked his eyes.

“Morning, sleepy head. Coffee?”

“Mhm. Big day. Today. Excited?”

“Very. I can’t believe Darcy is letting me steal you away.”

“You’re one very lucky guy.” _But then, I am too._

\--

They loaded Steve’s boxes of art supplies into the car first, then it was time for a quick breakfast before dressing and making the drive to Daly City. Darcy had been blowing up his phone already, first just a string of exclamation points and smiling emojis, then complaining that she had to do her own hair, another text to double check where they were meeting up after they had checked in, and the most recent one: HAPPY ANNIVERSARY YOU GUYS!!!<33

Bucky fussed over the coffee machine while Steve whipped up a pair of omelets, quietly humming to himself. _This_ , Bucky thought, _this is it_. 

He recognized the tune Steve was humming, from the muppet movie they had watched the night before, an annual tradition of Steve's to get in the spirit of the Dickens Fair, and joined in softly.

_With an open smile and with open doors/  
I will bid you welcome. What is mine is yours/  
  
_

Those Muppets. Such saps.

_With a glass raised to toast your health/_

_And a promise to share the wealth/_

At least they have good politics. It would be hard not to, working with that source material though.

_I will sail a friendly course, file a friendly chart/_

_On a sea of love and a thankful heart._

Steve was staring at him now, not even pretending to pay attention to the cooking, like he sometimes did when he caught Bucky singing around the apartment on days they did chores. His face was warm and open, just pure joy, and Bucky felt his love soar in his chest.

_With an open heart that is wide awake/_   
_I do make this promise: Every breath I take/_   
_Will be used now to sing your praise/_

Steve reached for him and Bucky pulled him in, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head as they swayed in the kitchen.

_And to beg you to share my days_ /

Bucky ignored the actual last lines of the song, which were stupid and talked about _parting_ which obviously was not something he was ever going to be stupid enough to do. He drops into the finale song instead. Maybe he's just as big a sap as those muppets. Seeing the way Steve looks at him, it's worth it. 

_Well, I met someone who touched my soul/_

_And made my world brand new/_

_There's a part of me, a place inside/_

_That now belongs to you/_

_The love we found, the love we found/_

_The sweetest dream that we have ever known/_

_The love we found, the love we found._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this i had so much fun writing it!! happy holidays and may 2021 bring better things


End file.
